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February, 2022

Carmen had been used to change. In his line of work, you really had no choice on what was going on. You kept your head down and just pushed on as hard as you could. Luckily for him, his hard work didn't go unrecognized. 

His sacrifices didn't matter, the mental torment he put himself through wasn't relevant. He was at the top in the culinary world, how could he possibly want to put that aside to focus on himself? In his mind, that was selfish. It was “some pussy shit” he’d mutter under his breath when things got loud.

Until he got that call.

Mikey was dead. The brother he’d done all of this work for – all that work to give him the biggest middle finger in the world – was dead. He couldn't process it, how could you process somebody else's death when you haven't even faced your own?

When Carmen found out that Mikey had left The Beef to him, he felt like ripping out his hair. He felt a strange obligation to keep the shop running, only causing him further anguish when he left the high-end culinary world. What was he doing? He was leaving the one place that gave him any sort of satisfaction for a rundown sandwich shop in downtown Chicago.

Whatever, he’d manage. Right?

Summer, 2022

You moved in. Carmen didn't mean to stare, but as he scrubbed down the counter in the front of The Beef he couldn't help himself. Things were closing down left and right in that side of town, how could he not be nosy? Especially when a young woman was carrying boxes twice her size into an empty building. He stopped wiping, slinging his towel over his shoulder and leaning on the counter to watch.

You were smiling as somebody carried in boxes with you, making jokes maybe. You were human, something that he couldn't force himself to be. You were happy, something he hadn't been in years.

A loud yell was heard behind Carmen, the slap on his shoulder was what made him shudder. It was just Richie, making him scoff and back away from him.

“Whatcha starin’ at, cousin?” Richie asked, trying to lean down and follow Carmen’s original line of sight.

Carmen shrugged, grabbing the cloth from his shoulder and starting to wipe the surface again. “Spaced out, fuck-o. Don't you have a job to do?”

Richie laughed and raised his eyebrows, putting his hands up in surrender as Carmen walked past him. The towel was left somewhere near Marcus’ station while Carmen quickly took off his apron and stuffed it in his locker. 

“I’m heading out, cousin! Gotta run an… an, errand. Or some shit.” he muttered the last part to himself as he quickly made his way out of the crumby restaurant. He lit a cigarette and squatted against the painted brick wall behind him. He took a drag from the cigarette and sighed, standing up again and walking towards your building. He waited for a clearing in the traffic to run through and threw his cigarette at somebody’s tire. On accident, he swears it.

He watched as the large van holding your belongings drove away when he hopped up to the sidewalk, cautiously walking up to the doorway to your building. When he was finally standing in it, he cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair.

You were a bit startled, eyes widening at the sound of somebody being there when you turned around. “Oh, hello.” You smiled politely, putting the large pot in your hands back into the equally large cardboard box.

Carmen stuttered a bit, rubbing the back of his neck and letting his hand hang there as he stared at you. “You uh, we're neighbors.”

“What?”

“No I mean like-” he sighs, laughing at himself a little bit, “I own, the uh… restaurant across from this place. It was uh, well it's not actually mine.”

You raise an eyebrow and quirk a smile. “What do you mean ‘not actually mine’?” you say while using your fingers as air quotes.

“It was my brother's.”

You heard the “was” part of it and you decided just not to ask. That might've been a heavy topic, nobody just gives somebody a restaurant for no reason. You nod and your smile falters for a second, putting your hands on your hips.

Carmen can feel the awkward tension in the room, looking down at his feet then around the enclosure. It was small, quaint, he wondered what you were going to do to the place. It fit you well, it had a vintage feel and he could tell that was why you liked it. Shit, every building on that street was vintage unless somebody knocked it down.

“I’m Carmen.” He says, finally breaking the silence between the two of you. You reply with your own name and go to shake his hand, which he reciprocates. His hands are rough, calloused and scarred unlike your own. You had a few scars on your hands, sure, but nothing catastrophic like his. None you could feel unless you tried.

You pull back and clear your throat, taking in a deep breath and curling a finger around the collar of your shirt. “I’m turning it into a bakery, in case you were wondering.” you said with a little laugh.

Carmen laughs and nods, stuffing his hands in his front pockets while doing another look-over of the place.

“Cute.”

“Very cute.” “Shit I didn’t mean it like- …insulting. That’s fuckin’... dope.”

You didn't reply, only giving him a poorly hidden smile in response. His awkward laughs just made you more and more endeared with whatever he was trying to explain. 

“Like, it's cute that there's a bakery right across from a shitty sub place.” He continues to scramble for ways to take back what he thought offended you.

He was charming, you had to give him that.

“Agreed,” you crossed your arms, looking around the place and letting out a deep breath.

Carmen just looked at you, not caring to point out the chipped paint on the counters or the display case with broken glass. It was almost sweet how the shine in your eyes got brighter the longer you stared. It was like you were day dreaming about what could be, already having everything mapped out and perfectly painted in your head. He hoped to maybe be a part of that future.

You hadn't seemed to notice until he cleared his throat and rested a hand on the nape of his neck.

“Well… if you ever want an Italian sub made by non-Italians, you know where to find me.”

“You aren’t Italian?”

“Nah, I meant like- like, none of my staff is Italian except me. And my cousin who isn’t actually italian but pretends to be… he’s like, fuckin’ polish.” He said with a huffed laugh, warmth spreading to his cheeks at the way you were looking at him.

You thought it was cute.

You raised an eyebrow and met him with a laugh, barely covering your mouth with your hand. “How does that work?” You said through a giggle.

“Long story.” Carmen smiled, putting his hand back in his pocket.

“Alright then, I’ll come by sometime.”

“Cool.”

“Super cool.”

“Right, I'm just gonna… yeah… yeah…” he said sheepishly as he started to walk backwards toward the door but turned around at the last second. He softly hit the painted wall of the door frame out of – what seemed to be – habit, you were surprised he didn't bump into it.

Carmen was charming, nonetheless awkward, but you’d always had a soft spot for guys that acted like scared prey. Especially ones that looked like him. Big arms, tattoos, sad eyes, the works. It was like the universe put him in front of you just to make your job harder than it needed to be.

Because now you had to worry about a hot neighbor.

—

It had been a week since your conversation with Carmen. Whenever he went to the front of the store he’d look over at your bakery. He wouldn't admit it, but he actively searched you out some mornings. He searched for the smile that made him weak in the knees, the one that made him swoon worse than with Claire in high school.

The Beef smelled like burnt meat, sweat, cigarettes, and regret. 

Richie was probably burning one right next to the stove again. But with how loud he was talking, it was unlikely. Carmen walked back to the kitchen, slamming the doors open and bee lining for the oven that had his roast in it. He was scared shitless that somebody was going to mess with it, it didn't show, but he was scared that the others would hide his ingredients. Just like they’d done to Sydney. He still really needed to apologize for that. 

“Cousin, you’re watchin’ that thing like a fuckin’ baby. What even is that?” Richie comes up behind Carmen, the roast now on top of the stove while Carmen spoons the drippings back onto itself. 

“Roast, idiot. The fuck does it look like?”

“Roast ‘deez nuts!” Richie laughs loudly, Marcus joining in on the laughter.

Carmen scoffs and puts the roast back in the oven, throwing the spoon to the counter. “Do you have to act like a fucking child all the time, cousin? Like- like is that just in your contract?” He asks, irritation and increasing volume lacing his words. Veins started to pop out of the side of his head, making his gritted teeth all the more worse.

Richie follows Carmen as he walks around the kitchen, checking prep work. “Do you have to go around acting like a baby, Carm? Do you just have to change everything you get your grubby little fuckin’ muffs on?”

They both continue arguing until Carmen is out of the kitchen, standing behind the ordering counter. Nobody was in there, it was before they opened. What could a little argument in the front room do? “You’re just so scared of changing this place, Richie! It's inevitable, shit happens-!” He yells, before whipping his head around and seeing you standing awkwardly a few feet away from them.

Nobody said anything for a minute, everybody just shifting their gaze to one another.

“Who the fuck‘re you?” Richie announced, letting his cigarette burn in between his fingers. It looked like it was begging to be ashed. 

You replied with your name, stuttering half way through it and clearing your throat. “I, uhm… I own the building next door. Carmen said to come by whenever, so…” you pursed your lips in a tight line, looking between the two of them.

Carmen was frozen, a hand still raised in the air directed at Richie. He was just… looking at you. But there was something behind it. Something that revealed he didn't expect you to actually show up, thinking that you’d brush him off like everybody else usually did. Except, you didn’t. You showed up like you said you would, or at least you implied that you would.

A goofy smile creeped up onto his face as he lowered his arm and turned to face you. He was flustered, that much you knew. The stupid pink on his cheeks and the red that painted his earlobes were evidence of this. His smile was lopsided, pulled up to one side more than the other. “Hi.” Was all he said, that stupid smile plastered on his face like he had not a care in the world.

You smiled back at him, not being able to hide a small laugh at how silly he looked. “Hi, Carmen.”

“Do you uh- Richie, go back to the uhm.. the kitchen.” he told Richie, not taking his eyes off of you for a second.

Richie scoffed and turned around, walking back into the kitchen. “Whatever boss baby wants…” he mumbled.

Carmen didn't care that he could hear him, fidgeting with the dirty towel in his hands. “Want a sandwich?” He asked, putting a hand to the back of his head and the other – towel still in hand – right above his hip. He let out a small laugh, but he didn't know what he was laughing at. Maybe he just did it to not let the silence consume you both. 

“Why else would I be here?”

“So you’re not here to see me?” he asked sheepishly, almost inaudible while he looked down at the towel in his hands. But you caught it.

You smiled, your teeth peaking through as you stared at him. “I mean, you were definitely the motivator?” you shrugged, holding your lips between your teeth as his cheeks reddened. Despite the mop of hair on his head, it didn't do as much hiding as he thought it did.

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you.”

Carmen finally looked back up at you and nodded, nodding towards the kitchen and slowly walking away. “I’ll be right back. Don't go yet.”

“Yes, chef.” 

He stopped in his tracks, looking at you with another stupid barely contained smile and looking down with an audible laugh. Not a huff, a real laugh. Carmen Berzatto could let out a real laugh. Cute.

He ran hand through his hair and looked back up at you, putting a finger up until he disappeared into the kitchen. 

You could hear yelling immediately.

Tina came up to him first. “Yo, Jeff. Who's the cutie at the counter, yeah?” She negged, nudging his shoulder with her own a couple times.

Carmen shrugged her off and started walking towards the finished roast in the oven. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend! …or how you even got one.” Tina continued, the sizzling vegetables in front of her creating a peaceful lull in the kitchen. It wasn’t often that it happened, so Carmen chose to embrace it for a second.

He just looked at her with a blank face – tired maybe. Then, he started cutting up the roast, quickly and not as precisely as he usually did.

“Hey, I’m just playin’ around… jeez.” Tina backed off, watching how quickly he was putting the sandwich together. She’d never seen him rush like that. Somehow the sandwich didn't look messy. Well… more messy than it could, anyways.

Carmen sped out of the kitchen and looked for you still standing at the counter. His heart dropped, had you left? Maybe you decided that he wasn't worth your time once you saw him and Richie’s fight. Or worse, you thought he was scary. Maybe the yelling made you nervous. Maybe your entire conversation was just for his convenience. Maybe you didn't like him the way that he liked you.

Maybe, maybe, maybe–

“Carmen?”

He looked to his right and found you sitting in one of the tall stools at the counter-table mounted to the wall. He hated that table, more specifically the red color. Why did Mikey choose the shittiest interior design?

“You’ve been standing there for a bit… you okay?” you asked, tilting your head and watching as he walked up to you.

“Yeah- Yeah, I’m good. I’m good.” Carmen replied, nodding and placing the sandwich in front of you.

You looked up at him again and then looked down at the sandwich. It looked good, not something you’d normally go for, but it still looked really good. You grabbed it and took a bite, covering your mouth when you looked up at him.

Your eyes were wide and your jaw stopped moving. It was fucking good. You cursed with your mouth full, still looking at him.

Carmen started to get scared, something had to be wrong, right? Why else would you be looking at him like that?

“What? Is- Is there something wrong with it? I could make you a new one, I swear Richie always messes with the way shit tastes.” he ranted, running a stressed hand through his hair as he started pacing.

You finished your bite and shook your head rapidly with your brows furrowed. “No! Not at all! Quite the opposite actually.” You confirmed before taking another bite and looking at him.

“Oh. Okay.” Carmen nodded, slowing his pacing before stopping completely and sitting down next to you. You offered him a bite of your sandwich and he hesitated. It was unlike him to share food like this, especially with a woman he just met. But he couldn't find himself caring like he usually would.

He leaned in for a bite and let out a huff of laughter through his nose while he chewed. Finishing your bite, you smiled and bit your lip slightly. 

“Told you.”

“Right, alright.” He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at you.

Those sad blue eyes didn't leave you while you finished the sandwich, offering him the last bite. He declined, but appreciated the gesture to the greatest extent that he could. Carmen couldn't keep up his sad act anymore, couldn't keep up the angry-tough guy act. He didn't want to. Not when he was with you, not anymore. He found himself smiling more when he was in your presence. You made him feel stupid and childish.

But he kind of liked it.

The two of you stared at each other for a few moments, no words, just looking and taking in the features of the other. It was peaceful, almost. A serene situation that Carmen nor you thought you’d get again.

He started to speak again, clearing his throat and looking down at the table. “So could I-”

“Can I have your number?” You interrupted, covering your mouth as if you blurted something you shouldn't have.

Carmen stared blankly at you, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. “Yes.”

You left The Beef with a giddy smile on your face and flushed cheeks, looking down at the “This is Carmen, call me” text notification from “Carmy 🥪”.

BONUS!

October, 2023

Carmen walked into your bakery Art Deco, the cap on his head only covering him so much from the rain outside. He didn't know why you called it that, there wasn't necessarily anything “art deco” in there. You just liked the Lana Del Rey song and wanted to have that sort of vibe in the bakery. You achieved it somehow and never changed the name to something that made more sense. 

How very you.

Carmen walked through the shop soaked, your employees already used to him visiting from time to time. They didn't care, just looked at him then rolled their eyes. He went straight for the back, right where he knew you’d be baking something that he could steal one of. You always made one extra that the two of you would split.

One of the doors swung open and you didn't immediately turn your head around. You knew those footsteps anywhere. They were quick and had a hint of insecurity littered with every step.

“Hey, Carm.” You said while standing up from crouching in front of the oven. You had two pans of hot croissants in your hands.

Carmen walked behind you and gently rested his hands on your waist, kissing your cheek. “Hey, honey.” he said as you suddenly walked away from him, grabbing a paper towel and putting one of the hot croissants on it. Your fingers were basically immune to the burning sensation you used to feel. You weren't sure whether you should feel prideful or worried about it.

He looked at you as you placed the pastry in his hands, smiling to himself and looking down at it with love. How could he not? You made it, everything you make should be looked at with only that.

“You should teach Marcus some of this stuff.” Carmen said before bowling the steam off of his dessert.

You giggled, looking over your shoulder at him. “Some of my shit is fancy, but not that fancy.”

“No, I know. But he should learn more… I dunno, homey desserts. For family. Y’know?”

“Well send him over if you want him to, I won't be opposed to it. He’s fun.”

“Funner than me?”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye and momentarily stopped dusting the croissants with powdered sugar.

Carmen’s eyes widened, nodding while looking around the kitchen. “Wow, okay.”

You laughed and continued to dust your desserts, shaking your head with a grin.

“I’m kidding. Nothing is more fun than listening to you critiquing cooking shows.”

“Not my fault they’re shitty.” “Not at all.”

He walked back over to you once you finished dusting and stole a kiss from you, the croissant you gave him now abandoned on the counter behind him. His hands slowly crept down to your thighs, curling his arms underneath and picking you up. You giggled, resting your face in the crook of his neck as he set you on a clean counter. Now you’d have to clean again. Damn you, cross contamination.

However, it was all worth it to watch him fuss over you for just a few minutes.

yooo, hopefully you guys enjoyed this! i'm not sure if people even like the bear anymore but i had fun writing this. rip carmy season one/two, so fine in all of his sad glory </3

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Stanford, 2007

You met Tashi during Orientation, her charming attitude practically forcing you to gravitate towards her. By the end of it, she had her arm wrapped around your shoulders and laughed with her face nuzzled in your neck.

Sleepovers in your dorms became a necessity after that. Whether it be study dates, watching movies — or tennis matches — on either of your laptops, it was always the first thing that you asked each other at the end of each week.

Tashi’s flirty personality worked on you relentlessly. It didn't surprise you when you slowly developed a crush on her. Her drive for tennis and the way she was so devoted to something she’d worked so hard for just drew you in more. It was almost sensual with how she talked about the sport. She’d made you play countless times, teaching you the correct techniques and how to hold the racket. Standing behind you with her chest to your back was something she did a lot when adjusting your grip.

You’d even noticed the way her eyes trailed over your legs when you wore tiny little tennis skirts. Strange.

As the months went on, you two became inseparable. You had a couple classes together and immediately sprinted toward the other once one of you were spotted. Among the sea of unknown people, it was nice to have someone to hold onto while meeting new individuals. Someone reliable. 

That person for Tashi, was you.

—

Tashi had ended up telling you about a guy she started seeing while her head claimed a spot on your lap. Patrick was his name, maybe? You couldn't quite remember, despite all the talk about his dick size that came from Tashi’s mouth. In your opinion, he sounded arrogant. He sounded like somebody that Tashi didn't need. She reassured you they weren't in love, but you still thought she deserved somebody better even if they weren't.

The first time you met him face to face, he was on top of her with his drawers half way down his legs. Which resulted in you getting a face full of ass when you walked into Tashi’s dorm. You were only there to give back her copy of Twilight she’d let you borrow, but of course that didn't go to plan. Patrick whipped his head back, his back hunched as he leaned over your friend with blushed lips.

“Shit-” Patrick muttered, sliding his boxers back up to cover himself. Tashi just laughed, slipping out from under him and walking over to you. You were covering your eyes from the events in front of you for obvious reasons, when Tashi held your wrist and moved it from your eyes.

“What do you need, baby?” she asked with a cheeky smile on her face.

She had a sports bra on, her hair still slicked back into her signature braid. She must've just come from practice.

You looked back at Patrick, who was now awkwardly sitting on Tashi's bed, twiddling his thumbs. Now that you got a good look at him, you couldn't blame Tashi for keeping him around. He was kind of hot.

You nudged the book into her hands. “I just wanted to give you this,” you spoke quietly. Tashi’s eyebrows rose a smidge upon seeing the book.

“You brought it back.”

“Why wouldn't I?”

She shrugged.

“I thought you'd forget it. You have a tendency to do that sometimes.”

“Oh shut up, Miss Perfect.”

She just huffed out a laugh and let go of your wrist, now grazing her hand along your forearm. “Well, thank you. Text you later?”

“Yeah, have fun getting your pipes cleaned.” You deadpanned with a little laugh, Tashi joining in on your laughter as she leaned her forehead to your shoulder. Patrick let out a small chuckle himself, and Tashi turned her head to look at him with a furrowed brow.

—

The first time you properly met Patrick and his blond friend, Art, was after one of Tashi’s matches. You had been sitting on the bleachers, sitting in the front so Tashi could see you, when two guys had sat next to you. You didn't pay much attention to them until the one next to you nudged your arm. 

It was Patrick.

He had a smile on his face that tugged at one side more than the other, looking down at you with a laugh. “Hey, you.”

“Hey.” You replied, a small smile grazing your lips.

Patrick scoffed, “Oh c’mon, don't get all shy now. You've literally seen my bare ass.”

The blond perked up at Patrick’s words, raising an eyebrow and looking slightly disgusted between the two of you.

“It was unconsensual.” You sneered, leaning forward slightly to see Patrick’s friend better.

His friend smacked Patrick’s chest, “The hell, man?” he asked before turning to you and putting his hand out.

“Art.”

You took his hand in yours and replied with your own name, smiling at him. A sweeter one than you’d given Patrick. He returned the smile and you both took your hands back, leaning against the wooden bleachers. 

Art was also cute, not hot, but undoubtedly handsome. He looked a little mousy, and you were definitely staring for too long. You turned your head towards the court, the sound of hands clapping together as Tashi moved with purpose onto the painted concrete. 

Goosebumps slowly grew on your arms and legs, something about seeing her on the court always sent shivers down your spine. People chanting and whistling at Tashi made her smile and wave her hand at the large crowd, but she was obviously looking for you. Maybe not obvious to everybody else, but you could tell. She always stood up a little straighter when you were at her matches.

She finally found you and gave you a small wave and smile that made your own widen. Illuminating confidence was something that Tashi could just do. You didn't know how it came so easily for her, even the most perfect people in the world had things they were insecure about.

But then again, was there anybody more perfect than Tashi?

To nobody's surprise, the match went swimmingly, adding another notch in Tashi’s beautifully crafted belt. You watched as the sweat fell down her chest, absorbing into the spandex of her tank top. Nothing could compare to the look of pride that fell upon her face once she won, it was like being crowned queen in her world. Even after being to a couple of her games, you still watched her with endearment. Most would be jealous of her position, but not you. Okay, maybe you were a little bit. But who could blame you!

Patrick nudged your elbow and scoffed when you snapped out of your trance. “Earth to Goo-Goo Eyes. You ogling my girlfriend?”

You laughed, covering your mouth as if mocking him.

“Is that what you're calling each other now?

“Yeah, I think she’s making me an honest man.”

You sighed and murmured under your breath, “ain’t what she said…”

Patrick cleared his throat and furrowed his brows at you, sitting up straighter as Art started to get up from his seat. 

—

After the three of you met up with Tashi, she went back to her dorm and showered, while you all sat in her small dorm. Art was sitting on the floor, Patrick was standing, and you had claimed the bed. 

Patrick and you had argued about who got to sit on the bed for a good two minutes before Tashi paused her shower to yell from the closed bathroom door, “Fuck, Patrick! She gets it!” The running water resumed as you two stared at each other, dumbfounded. However, you found satisfaction in taking your sweet time to sit on the mattress. 

“Oh fuck off.” Patrick spat while plopping himself back into her desk chair, Art giggling to himself as the two of you bickered.

“I’ve earned the title.” You purred, a smug smile on your face as you leaned back on your forearms.

Patrick just rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, typing out replies on the small keyboard. You wondered just how many letters got bashed because of his unruly typing. “So where do you guys wanna go to dinner?” Art asked as he cleared his throat, looking between the two of you.

You shrugged, looking down at Art. “We could try that new sandwich shop down the street?”

“Didn’t some guy from your class get food poisoning from that place?”

“I'd pay anything to see either of you get food poisoning.” Patrick chipped in, looking up at the two of you with that stupid side smirk.

Art punched his calf and Patrick yelped in return, holding his leg up to his chest. The three of you all laughed amongst yourselves until Tashi stepped out of the bathroom in a t-shirt and shorts. She raised an eyebrow and smiled at the three of you, huffing out a laugh.

“We’re going to the new place down the street, you in?” Patrick asked, slumping in his chair more as he looked up at her. 

Tashi shrugged and nodded, grabbing your hand and dragging you up from her bed while you giggled. “Let’s go.” She said calmly, turning her head to watch you trailing behind her.

The two boys got up from their seats and followed you both in the direction of said sandwich place, Art spinning half way through the walk there to trip Patrick. 

“Dick!” Patrick shouted as he lost his footing, grabbing onto Art’s forearm to keep himself stable.

Once you entered the restaurant, you took a good look at your surroundings. It resembled a 70’s diner with the striped wallpaper and vintage jukebox in the corner that still played music. The four of you were seated in a booth that clung to your thighs when you sat down, with Tashi sliding in next to you. Patrick and Art sat across from you, and you could tell almost immediately that Art was eyeing Tashi. He was looking at her the same way that you did while she was on the court.

It was cute, really. Patrick noticed from the corner of his eye and then looked at you, as if to say “he thinks he's slick”. You both snickered as you looked down at your menus, Tashi lightly nudging your foot with hers and then placing a hand on your thigh. 

You held your lips between your teeth for a second before letting them go, trying to suppress the small smile on your face. Whenever Tashi was quietly intimate with you, butterflies filled your stomach and sent a quick jolt to your heart. You just weren't expecting it, was all. Wasn't it?

You looked up through your lashes to find Art in front of you, who was “discreetly” eyeing Tashi the whole time. You didn’t think he’d looked down at the menu once. Patrick however, wasn't paying any attention to anything at all. He didn't stare like Art did, not pathetically like you did while she swung the racket, he didn’t stare at all. He skimmed. He glanced. 

It made no sense to you, how could you look at Tashi and not want her to be the only thing you see? She was otherworldly. She had the type of beauty that made girls look in the mirror and sigh in disappointment. You knew her struggles, her problems, she broke in your hands and you let her lie there. It made her all the more beautiful, though. 

You just couldn't wrap your head around what Patrick was even doing with Tashi. If he wasn’t willing to gaze at her like she was the only woman on Earth, what was he possibly doing?

A waitress soon walked over, taking your orders and then rushing away. Tashi finally looked up at Art, raising an eyebrow and grimacing at him. “Art.”

His trance never broke, only replying with a quiet, “yes?”

“What’s up?”

“You look good.”

Tashi huffed out a laugh, putting a damp curl behind her ear and brushing him off. "Sure, Art."

Patrick wasn't even mad about Art blatantly hitting on his girlfriend. You looked perplexed, sitting back against the fake leather of your booth and looking between the two.

To be frank, you never got an explanation.

Soon enough, your sandwiches were laid out on the table and you all began to dig in. Tashi made a small moan after taking a bite into hers. You swallowed your bite but still covered your mouth as you spoke.

“Good?”

“Really fucking good.”

She leaned a bit closer to you, offering you a bite of her sandwich. You took it, how could you not? Anything with high praise from Tashi must've been good, right? As you chewed, your eyes slightly widened while turning to her.

“It's great, right?”

You nodded vigorously, swallowing your bite again and laughing a little. Tashi continued to stare at you, it was soft, something that never really crossed her face very often. She was always so cold and cut, so seeing her with a quieter look made her seem more human than tennis fiend.

You felt heat start to slowly creep up your neck the longer she stared, so you forced yourself to look away and went back to eating your sandwich. It was nowhere near as good as Tashi’s, but you didn’t mind.

Neither of the boys commented on the prolonged eye contact that the two of you had. You were expecting them to mock you both in some way, but that didn't happen. You looked back up at the two in front of you and saw why they hadn't commented on it. Patrick was staring at Art the way Tashi had stared at you. It was almost a painful look of yearning, pathetic even.

When you and Tashi finished your sandwiches, she placed her hand on your thigh again and gave it a light squeeze to get your attention.

“We’ve got that exam tomorrow, right?”

You looked over at her and nodded, resting your chin on your fist.

“We should probably go then. I know how much you hate studying last minute.”

You looked in front of you at the guys and they didn't seem to hear your conversation. You turned back to face Tashi and then bit your lip anxiously. “Shouldnt we wait for them to finish?” Tashi raised an eyebrow and put a hand on your shoulder. “Patrick won't mind paying.”

“Alright… sure.” You said, sliding out of the booth and letting Tashi slide out next to you. When the two of you started walking, you heard Patrick and Art say something – but couldn't make out what it was. They were probably cursing the two of you out for leaving so abruptly. She put a hand on your lower back, guiding you through the restaurant and leaning close to your ear with a little laugh. “Ignore them.”

Art sighed, turning to Patrick with a little laugh. “You’re paying. I don't have any money on me, man.”

“Greedy bitches.” Patrick returned, not only directed at the two of you, but at Art too.

—

When you arrived back at Tashi’s dorm, she let you go in first, trailing not too far behind you.

You set your things down and stacked books on top of each other in the order you would take notes in. Tashi put her phone on her nightstand, slipping off her shoes and watching as you unpacked your bag.

“You should shower, can't be dirty during a sleepover.” She said, plopping down on her bed with a sigh as her eyes trailed down your figure.

The word “sleepover” was like a trigger in your mind. You were like a dog hearing its favorite word with the way you perked up. You laughed a little and put a piece of hair behind your ear, turning your head to look at her.

“Fine.” You dragged the word out as you slid your shoes off, walking to the small bathroom and shutting the door behind you.

While the water ran, the door opened to Tashi putting a pile of her clothes on the lid of her laundry basket. When you got out of the shower and saw the folded articles of clothing, your heart grew two sizes bigger. You opened the door to find Tashi sitting on the floor, using your books to write her notes. She looked up from her pen, her eyes lingering on you in a way that couldn't be platonic.

“You look good.” She smiled, following your every movement as you sat next to her and reached for your own notebook. 

Your cheeks reddened, lightly smacking her arm with the back of your hand. “Quit flirting with me.” You said with a smile you couldn't bite back.

Tashi didn’t say anything after that. She stared like she didn’t want to do anything else. She stared like you’d disappear if she stopped. It was soft, comforting, something you wouldn't trade for anything else. Even if it flustered you, you wouldn't tell her to stop. You couldn't possibly do that – it was considered sacrilege in your mind.

While you wrote in your notebook – transferring different quotes to the paper – Tashi had forgotten about her notes entirely. Her legs flat against the floor as her notebook rested against her thighs.

Her hand reached to grab your jaw, turning your face to her and crashing her lips against yours in a way that could only be described as vulnerable. You squeaked, but didn't pull away. If anything, you melted against her. Falling against her and pulling her in close by your arms around her neck. She was holding onto you hard enough that she might leave bruise marks, but you weren't concerned with that at the moment. Tashi Fucking Duncan was kissing you!

She pulled away first. “Tell me to stop and I will.” She said, her voice full of breath as she leaned in for another kiss. You only nodded and pulled her closer, her chest now against yours while you both slowly fell to lie on the uncomfortable, rough carpet.

You pulled away, biting her lip a little and dragging it towards you before letting it go. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” you said quietly, laughing a little. She laughed a little with you, resting her forehead against yours.

“Why didn't you?”

“Youre with Patrick, I didn't want to cause any proble-”

“Fuck Patrick.”

You laughed again, pulling your head away from her to look around you. “Okay then. Fuck Patrick.”

“See, baby? You get it.” She said, leaning in for another kiss, which you happily obliged.

Her hands settled themselves on your waist, lightly running her hands up and down a bit. The two of you didn't separate, no. You kept going. It got messier, it got desperate, it got noisy.

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous.” She muttered in between kisses, resting her palm against your cheek.

She dragged you up to her bed, carefully laying you down and crawling on top of you once again. The kiss still didn't break. It only broke once Tashi lifted herself up, straddling your hips as you sat up on your forearms while she put her thumb to your lips.

You looked up at her with a pathetic look in your eye, slowly parting your lips and placing her thumb in between your front teeth.

Tashi smiled, tilting her head slightly but never taking her eyes off of you. “You know what to do, hm?”

You pulled back from her thumb and kissed the pad of it, leaning upwards to pull her into another passionate kiss. Your hands slowly trailed up her abdomen, now with her sitting in your lap. You retracted yourself from her lips and started to slowly kiss her neck, right under her jaw.

She let out a small whimper when you grazed your teeth to the hollow between her shoulder and neck. You laughed a little, lifting your head back to embrace her lips with your own once again while your hands got closer and closer to her bra.

Tashi got on top of you again, your head now landing on her pillow as one of your legs came to rest on her hip. The kiss was rough, ludicrous, everything you could’ve wanted from her, but you felt the need to tease her a bit.

“Fuck you.” You said in between breaths.

“For what?” She asked.

You smiled, kissing her with urgency. “For not doing this sooner.”

She pulls away and rolls her eyes.

“God, you’re needy.” She teases before diving back in to kiss you, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing her own to the side. Tashi’s lips trailed down your abdomen, dragging your shorts down with her teeth while you watched in awe.

She looked determined, like she did on the court, which got you even more flustered. She tugged at her own shorts and kissed your inner thighs, leaving light bite marks behind. 

Tashi was like a starved woman, your fingers curling in her hair as she went to work. Your back arched against her mattress and she slid her hand up to hold yours, intertwining your fingers and squeezing. Just to feel how your hand gripped her own, evidence of how good she was doing.

That night, you learned what Tashi meant when she said she wasn’t in love with Patrick.

hope you guys liked this!! its a little different than what I normally do, but i want to start writing things like this more often. hopefully its not too bad lol. <33

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!